Dancing fool redeux (2)

I tried. I really did.

For two years. Two very LONG years.....

That's when my ballroom dance lessons (and money for them) came to a screeching halt, through no fault of my own. I found other non-dance related outlets. I danced socially when I could. I tried to forget how dance makes me feel.

But, like a lover that lingers in your heart, no matter that your head has scolded you, telling you it's time to move on, dance refuses to leave me alone.

As the new year dawned, I made the commitment to myself, a resolution from a person who doesn't make them: I would find a way to dance again.

Last week, I walked into a dance studio again, just like I did in April 2011 when I was going to take ONE dance lesson for my thing I had never done before. The day I fell in love with a physical way of expressing music. And I fell in love again. So far, it was one free lesson, but it's a start.

I also found a community ed class where I--and a great friend!--will learn to cha cha. Can't wait.

I've learned over the years to embrace those things I find in life that bring me joy and fulfillment and an escape from all the responsibilities I carry every day. This one has hung around for two years, waiting for me to come back to my senses.

Well, I'm back!

We're fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance. ~Japanese Proverb

Dancing fool finis.....or not

"Those who dance are considered insane by those

who cannot hear the music.” 

George Carlin

 

This is a hard one. It has been percolating for weeks, working its way to the forefront of my attention, and now clamors to be released. The writing process for me is much like a coffee pot in that respect, the idea getting hotter and hotter, my attention turning to it more frequently the higher the internal temperature rises, until I simply cannot keep my fingers off the keyboard no matter how hot those keys are. Or how much it hurts to release the lid of the pot.

 

George's words caught my attention, because I feel a bit insane right now. Many of you will remember when this Dancing Fool was born [http://agedtoperfectiondeborahhansen.blogspot.com/2011/05/dancing-fool.html] the day my feet dragged me into a dance studio as my "one thing I had never done" for that month. It was April 28, 2011. And my life changed forever.

 

I was 62 years old and I was terrified of dancing. I had been my entire life. You know how it is, I know you do: We think everyone is watching us, judging us, even laughing at our awkward attempts to move our feet and bodies in time with the music. (I learned that they aren't. They're only thinking about their own clumsy feet, but that's a topic for another day.)

 

I have become more adventurous as I aged, but I really only intended to take that one lesson and quickly check it off my bucket list. Life has its way with us, though, and I signed up for dozens of lessons with my instructor, a young man who taught me the basics of the waltz, tango, cha cha, swing, hustle, and salsa. No one was more surprised than me at these new turns on the dance floor.

 

He moved to another studio and I followed. I brought him a new student, a man who later became more than a potential dance partner. (He was only taking lessons to....well, that really is a story for another day.) My instructor put on an open house, and he and I danced the waltz in front of my friends and family, a magical experience for me that proved that you CAN teach a not-so-young woman new things.

I learned to trust someone else to lead. I learned to listen and not talk, even if I disagreed with the instruction given. I learned to stop thinking and just move, a torturous thing for someone who has lived solely in her head. I learned to smile and never stop moving. I learned to continue to move forward and not look back. My body literally changed shape as a result of using it in new ways. My love of music now has a physical manifestation that is wondrously satisfying to me. All of this was unexpected and brought such beauty to my life. For those two hours every week, I was transported to another place, one that transcended my problems, my irritations, my every day life.

The result? I can now walk onto the dance floor and do just about any dance anyone wishes to do. In fact, I can't stop moving, as those around me can attest. My feet and my body sway, tap, twirl, accompanied by a beat no one but me hears.

 

Which makes the sudden, ripping away of my dance lessons even more difficult. The details are not important to anyone but me, I'm sure. We trust people, and then we find out we shouldn't have, but would we have done anything differently if it meant never experiencing it at all?

 I will never regret dancing my way into a new life, filled with beauty and grace. No, I wouldn't change any of this for a second, regardless of its difficult end.

I guess George was right about the insanity.

"You must understand the whole of life, not just one little part of it. That is why you must read, that is why you must look at the skies, that is why you must sing, and dance, and write poems, and suffer,

and understand, for all that is life.”

 

 

      

All about pacing.....

It wasn't a problem for a long time.....decades, actually.


When it became a problem, I didn't recognize it for years.


When I DID recognize it, I attempted to ignore it.


Finally, I accepted it with gritted teeth.


As we age, we find that our minds can outpace rings around our energy levels. At least that's the way it's been for me. In the morning, it sounds great to plan on attending an evening gathering with friends. Sure, why not? I say when I accept the invitation. That sounds like fun, and I like the people going, so count me in.


Oops. By about 4 PM, I realize my mistake. I've worked all day, intellectually at the office and then  physically at the gym, so I'm exhausted from head to toe and back again.

I was stymied by that for a lot of years, feeling as if I was exhibiting the "stick in the mud" mentality I was so often accused of in my 20s and 30s. (For good reason at that point in time, but the person inhabiting this skin isn't the same one who left the building a long time ago and I don't  like to be reminded of those days. I get a tad cranky when I even get a whiff of that phrase today.)


But then I realized that my energy  reserves were no longer at any "stick in the mud" levels (oh, the irony of it all, right?). It wasn't that I was sticking anywhere, to anything. My body simply couldn't keep up any longer. My life has expanded in ways that are often unrecognizable to me as I have aged. I dance, I engage in interval training that involves weight lifting, I seek out new adventures every month. I'm a lot more fun and I have fun in ways that I hadn't even dreamed of when I was decades younger.


I even hate writing this. It hurts. But reality must be faced, and this is it: We have to learn to pace ourselves as we move into the latter decades. (I did NOT say as we "get old," I hope you noticed that.) What that means on a daily basis is that I must view the events of the day, and into the evening, from a longer perspective than my younger years demanded.


If I work all day, hit the gym in the afternoon, and have some writing to do at home before I slide between my sheets to read before sleep, then I can't schedule a dance lesson that particular day. Or I have to change the gym to tomorrow, and dance today. And forget going out at night if I dance OR exercise within the same 24-hour block of day. Not going to happen. 


Yes, it's a hard reality to swallow. But those of you who are younger than me, heed my words here. You may think you are immune to what all of us ultimately face, whether it's cellulite in places you never even thought about or flagging energy levels. You're not. Sure, you can pay to have the lumps removed or buy pricey energy drinks, but the reality is still evident.


Thoreau spoke of keeping pace with our companions, and something about drums. I don't need to stay abreast of those folks. It just takes more energy to keep that drummer in sight at all.

If a man does not keep pace with his companions, perhaps it is because he hears a different drummer. Let him step to the music which he hears, however measured or far away.
Henry David Thoreau

Dancing fool, part 4

This will be quick. Sometimes less is better (well, very often less is better, but we do like the sound of our own voices, don't we?), and this is one of those occasions. I could write a whole column on this, but it wouldn't be any better. Just longer.

During one of my dance lessons last week, I was (still) struggling with the finer points of technique in one of the Latin dances. My instructor, who is about half my age, looked at me and uttered one of those statements that knocks you on your butt by hitting the target, BULLSEYE!, without even realizing what he had done.

But I did.

"You need to commit.....you keep taking the step and then going back! You need to COMMIT!"

Oh, my.......

There is a bit of insanity in dancing that does everybody a great deal of good.

  ~Edwin Denby



It's time for "something I've never done before".........

Let's see.....

I hookahed in January.

Did a spinning class in February.

Drove my dream car in March.

Went to take ONE dance lesson in April, which led to an obsession with ballroom dancing that continues.

Tiled my kitchen backsplash in May.

Went to a psychic in June.

And took a piano lesson in July.

Worthy activities, and yes, a lot of fun. (Well, maybe not the tiling.....)

That brings me to this month's "thing I've never done before," the continuation of my year of stretching my wings and re-learning how to have fun. (If you are new to this adventure, go to http://agedtoperfectiondeborahhansen.blogspot.com/2011/01/have-you-hookahed.html to begin the saga.) 

A funny thing has happened to me along the way, I've noticed. Well, a lot of funny things have occured during this year, which is part of the process, I think. But I noticed this month that I am routinely doing new things without even thinking about them in the context of my intentional adventure.

For example, I went out dancing ON PURPOSE early in the month, and I never even thought about using that as my event for August. If you know me, you understand that dancing has been a difficult thing for me. So, for me to accompany my dance instructor and some of his other students one evening to a place where dancing is the reason people show up....well, you know what a big thing that was. But it didn't occur to me to mention it, which speaks volumes about my new mental attitude. And I had a great time, thank you for asking.

What to do for August? I've sought suggestions from others, I've consulted the list I've been keeping in my trusty spiral notebook. Ride on a motorcycle? Sing karaoke? Rock climb? I hadn't decided yet.

Until today. And it hasn't been on any list to date. Go figure. But here goes.

For all the genres of writing that I have tried over the years, I have never written poetry. I knew better than to try to rhyme anything. Somehow I knew that would turn into an exercise in hilarity, both in topic and effort and maybe couldn't even be shared in polite company. So, I looked up "free verse," and Wikepedia told me to go ahead....give it a try. No rules to abide by, which suits me just fine these days.


Oh.....you thought I was going to share it with you?  Not yet....it isn't the 28th, which is the witching day for my monthly adventure. I'm working on it, though, and you'll be the first to know when I'm done. I guess we can just be thankful I'm not attempting limericks.

Poetry is a packsack of invisible keepsakes. ~Carl Sandburg

Dancing fool, part 3

A simple spin, that's all he was asking me to do. Of course, my arms are going one way while my head is supposed to be keeping me focused on a spot in the corner. All of that while I'm pivoting half-way around......without falling over, that is.

You do know about my coordination issue, right?

What is wrong with me? I can stand at a podium and talk to an audience of hundreds for hours. I mediate between some very angry people, and no one has gotten out of control yet. I can write 500 words in about 15 minutes, and it sounds coherent most of the time. In other words, my skill set is pretty well developed at this point in my life.

I've gotten complacent. Self-satisfied. Competent in my chosen profession. So, I experience quite a lot of  success and don't often have anyone tell me that what I'm doing is lacking in some way.

Until he asks me to spin without falling over. Even gently and with a lot of patience.

So, today when he said, "It doesn't have to be perfect," the room lit up. I DON'T have to be perfect at everything I do?? Even though I'm a driven Capricorn who is never without lipstick or every hair in place? For real??

 Imperfect humans are allowed to practice dancing. No wonder I love this so much.

Sometimes we strive so hard for perfection that we forget that imperfection is happiness.

Karen Nave 

Dancing fool, part 2.....

It's been a long time since I've been surprised by anything. Once you hit about 50, not much can jump out from behind a door, shout "BOO!" and still get a reaction.

But I have to admit....I am startled by my reaction to taking the "one" dance lesson in April that was my "thing I've never done before." (See http://agedtoperfectiondeborahhansen.blogspot.com/2011/05/dancing-fool.html for an update.) The one twirl around the dance floor on April 28th led to three more which then led to another 11. And now I'm signing up for months of lessons, expensive or not. I'm not sure I totally understand this myself, which is why I'm writing about it again. I write to process and this needs processing, believe me.

First of all, ballroom dancing for me is hard work. Ask me to pat my head and rub my stomach at the same time, and then stand back and have a good laugh. My instructor knows when he shows me a new step, everything he's already taught me in that particular dance flies out of my head for a few minutes. It's like I wandered in off the street by mistake at that particular point in the lesson, a stranger lost in a strange land. We have to do it over and over for me to insert the new into the old and then put it all back together again, Humpty Dumpty-like. In other words, coordinated I am not. But when I get it (and I do), it is a thing of beauty. At least that's how it feels to me.

And unbeknownst to me all these years, I have been disconnected from my body. You want me to move my ribcage that way while my hips stay still? Are you crazy?? At least I'm secure enough to laugh at myself while I'm contorting my body the way he's demonstrating. How does he DO that? He's savvy enough not to laugh out loud at me, but I imagine he has a good chuckle when I stumble on home at the end of the hour. He's patient and kind and he's teaching me things I didn't even know I didn't know. I also have to trust him and relinquish control, one thing that I've learned to withhold and the other I hold onto for dear life.
My life hasn't been much fun for a very long time. All that changed with my first step on the dance floor.

Surprise!

http://www.absolutedancestudio.com/

 “You've got to dance like nobody's watching and love like it's never going to hurt.”